Inside the mind of Danielle the Democrate

The red line… the only line I ever take around the city on a daily basis. As much as I take this line I’ve never seen the same person twice; always giving me a new atmosphere to soak in on a early Sunday morning. As I scan the car for my next form of entertainment, I can’t help but notice the women right beside me. A plump girl with curly brown hair pulled back, with bright glittery clips, into a tiny little floof of a pony tail. She’s wearing black square plastic rim glasses perched on her round nose and a camo zip. I can’t help but notice the four buttons placed strategically on the right side of her zip up. They are all democratic champagne buttons. Every other button bashes the Bush administration while the others promote Obama. I couldn’t help but notice her matching Obama shirt under her zip up and the frantic scribbling she was doing in her My Little Pony notebook. As I placed myself in the perfect position to read over her shoulder without looking like a complete creeper, I noticed she was writing down a list of words. War, Liar, Revolution, Dream, Vote, Change… these where just a few jotted down on the lined paper. Constantly she was periodically checking her watch and looking out the window with a hint of annoyance in her big brown eyes. Once she catches on to my gaze upon her notebook she quickly slams it shut, hugging it towards her body. Her gaze slowly lowers as she trails deep into her thoughts on the upcoming Students for a Democratic Society meeting at DePauw University that she’s about to be late for. She was so anxious and scared about speaking in front of her fellow group members, but since she’s president she has to face it every week. The long commute into the city made it worse because it was just more time she had to sit and think about all the things that could go wrong during her opening speech at the meeting. This meeting she really wanted to get people pumped and excited about their biggest event of the year… the election. The group would be working the polls and she wanted to grasp how important it was to be contributing even the slightest to making a difference. She wanted to nail this one, so to cope she brought out her favorite notebook and started jotting down words that came to mind when she thought of their cause and the presidential election. Finally, she was relaxing a little then she felt someone’s gaze upon her making her very self conscious, so she quickly closed her notebook. She didn’t know why she felt those scribbles shouldn’t be read by anyone but her… It wasn’t as if anyone would understand there meaning. But she did and they had a personal meaning to her with not only the election but also as an outlet for coping. She felt that if someone could read those they’d see through her mask of confidence and business like demeanor she wished to portray. She like the rest of society didn’t want to face her own vulnerability, and if she can trick society into believing her act… maybe, she could trick herself.